Such Selfish Prayers
by roane
Summary: It had been nearly three years since that first mission they took to Naboo. Three happy years together, fighting and living side by side, sleeping in each other's arms whenever they were in the same system—which was more often than not. He loved her more than he ever thought it was possible to love anyone, and with one word, sister, Vader had shattered his world.


AN: Follows The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing and The Cost of a Lie, but can be read as a standalone.

* * *

Everything hurt. Luke's right arm—what was left of it—burned despite the painkillers Leia had given him. The _Falcon's_ medbay was crude and there wasn't much else she could do. He was covered in bruises and cuts and scrapes first from the fight with Darth Vader and then the long fall through Bespin's ventilation system. That fall should have killed him. He'd meant for it to.

Not because he wanted to die, but because the alternative was worse. For just a moment, when Vader held out his hand and offered him everything—a father, power, a chance to _rest_ —he'd been tempted. So instead, he chose a fall of his own making, not Vader's.

 _-Luke…_

"Father." He said it without meaning to. The word slipped past his guard, revealing the truth to himself, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. How much he wanted to deny the truth of everything Vader had told him.

 _-Son, come with me._

Luke fell back to the cushion. "Ben, why didn't you _tell_ me?" He needed Ben Kenobi here in front of him, now: Ben, who had to have seen what was happening in Luke's eyes every time he mentioned the princess. Ben, who _knew_.

 _-Luke, it is your destiny. Yours and your sister's_.

Leia, his sister. Every time he thought it he felt a chasm open up beneath him as deep and deadly as the one he'd fallen into on Bespin.

It had been nearly three years since that first mission they took to Naboo. Three happy years together, fighting and living side by side, sleeping in each other's arms whenever they were in the same system—which was more often than not. He loved her more than he ever thought it was possible to love anyone, and with one word, _sister_ , Vader had shattered his world.

He'd rushed to Bespin, despite Ben and Yoda's warnings, and they'd been right. Vader had defeated him, and Luke had lost everything.

He couldn't stay still. He had to see how close the Imperial ships were, to see how much time they had left. Woozy and weak, he slid from the bed and weaved his way to the cockpit. Leia was there, and he felt her mental shields up against him. It hurt, but he understood. Whatever new conduit he'd opened between them, it hadn't closed yet. They could still hear each other. Weakened and wounded as he was, he was probably broadcasting misery loud enough for even the droids to sense. To her it must have been like him screaming in her ear.

Luke had his own shields up as well. Leia was busy trying to keep them safe; this was not the time for her to learn what he had learned, for her world to crumble as well.

Vader's voice—his father's voice—was still in his mind. _The three of us together finally, my son. Think of all we can accomplish together. I don't blame you, or your sister. You didn't know. It was Obi-Wan's final betrayal of me, keeping the truth from my children. Come with me and all will be forgiven…_

The Star Destroyer was getting closer. They couldn't be captured. They couldn't. Luke didn't have the strength to withstand Vader a second time, and Leia… Leia couldn't find out the truth like this. Not from _him_. Not now. He watched his father's ship come closer to overtaking the _Falcon_ , then with a squeal from Artoo, everything tilted as they launched into hyperspace.

#

Leia distracted him while the med droid worked to repair the damage to his arm, telling him everything that had happened while he was away on Dagobah, up to and including Calrissian's betrayal and Han's subsequent capture and carbon freezing. Luke was a still a little hazy on why Leia trusted Calrissian _now_ , but he was too heartsore and weak to do anything but trust her judgment. Besides, Calrissian had offered to go with Chewie to find Han, and that was more than Luke was capable of right now. Leia, they all agreed, was a little too recognizable these days to run around spying.

He still hadn't told her. They hadn't had a moment alone since he'd been rescued, aside from those first moments, when he was in too much shock and pain to even think about talking to her.

The moment was coming, though. The droid finished with Luke's hand, and he went to where Leia was standing at the transparisteel, watching as the _Falcon_ finished prepping for takeoff.

"You wish you were going with them," she said.

Luke looked down at her and smiled. "So do you." His new hand rested on her shoulder, and she hadn't flinched from it. Although it registered pressure and warmth and sensation, it still felt impossibly foreign. Supposedly that would fade with time.

They watched until the _Falcon_ took off and vanished from sight. Artoo and C-3PO had long since left, both in dire need of maintenance.

"C'mon," Leia said gently. "You need to rest. Our quarters are on this ship—we wanted to keep you near the medbay, in case."

 _Our quarters_. They'd shared quarters before, when space was at a premium—and it was now especially, since they were between bases. Before, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. Now, though…

"All right."

Their quarters were cramped and utilitarian, their meager belongings still piled in one corner. As small as it was for two, Luke knew the rest of the pilots would be sleeping in even tinier bunks, practically piled on each other. He just hoped there was still one empty, because after this conversation, he had a feeling he would need one.

Leia insisted that he lie down, and he wasn't inclined to argue; he was exhausted. She lay at his side, curled against his shoulder. He was so tired, maybe they shouldn't talk just yet. Just a little while longer…

"All right, what's going on?" Leia propped her chin on his chest and looked up at him.

"What happened to me needing rest?"

"You're being _loud_. Whatever's bothering you, out with it." Their mental connection had never closed—Luke wondered now if it ever would—and they were both still getting used to it.

Luke couldn't do this with her lying in his arms. He sat up in the bed, propping himself against the wall. Leia sat up as well, sitting cross-legged across from him.

"This must be serious." A faint hint of worry crossed her lovely face.

"It is." Now that the moment had come, he didn't know where to start. "Do you remember anything about your parents, your birth parents?" Maybe she did. Maybe Vader was lying.

Her brow furrowed, but she shook her head. "Not really. I have faint memories of my mother, just images really. I was young when she died. I never knew who my father was. I never asked. I got the feeling somehow that I shouldn't. Besides, I had my parents; I didn't need more."

He nodded, and deep down her words felt like confirmation of Vader's.

She reached for his hand. "What is it?"

"All I knew of my father was what Uncle Owen told me, and later Ben. Aunt Beru wouldn't tell me anything about my mother, except that she had been good and kind and beautiful, and that she would be proud of me." Luke's eyes stung unexpectedly, thinking of his aunt and uncle. "But Leia, Uncle Owen lied to me. Ben… lied to me." That hurt, almost as much as the rest of it. That both men had looked him in the eye and lied.

"Luke, no. He wouldn't—they must have had a good reason." She squeezed his hand, her eyes focused on him intently.

Why couldn't he just say it? He took a breath and formed the words before he could think any further. "Darth Vader is my father."

Luke forced himself to watch the way her face crumpled in horror and disgust. He had expected nothing more. Even now, three years after the Death Star, she still sometimes woke terrified in the night, remembering what Darth Vader had done to her there. "No, why would you even say such a thing?"

"He told me."

"He was lying. He must have been." She drew her hand out of his, and it was the first of many expected cuts.

"I don't think he was. I can—I can feel the truth of it." _Say the rest of it, get it over with now_. "That wasn't all he told me."

"I don't want to hear it." Leia slid off the bed and stood. "Whatever it is, it's a lie. He wanted to hurt you. To manipulate you."

He knew then that she sensed the truth.

More than anything, he wished he could let her run, but it wasn't in him to do it. Luke followed her off the bed and pulled her into a hug.

"Don't tell me," she begged, and he could hear the tightness in her voice. "Don't say it."

"I have to, I'm sorry. He said—he said he was your father too."

"Luke, no—"

"That you and I are twins—"

"It's not true. He found out about us, and this is how he wants to tear us apart, don't you see that?" She pushed her way out of his arms and he let her go.

It would be so easy, so tempting, to agree with her that their father had been lying, but Luke felt the truth of it resonating too strongly in his soul. It was the missing piece of a puzzle he never knew he was trying to solve.

She glared at him. "You believe him." Her words were an accusation.

"I don't want to. But it's true, don't you feel it?"

"No," Leia lied, a lie so obvious even he could see it. Her eyes were overbright, but no tears fell. Leia didn't weep—unlike him. "He just wants to hurt us."

She wasn't wrong. Vader had driven him hard and beaten him down, wanting him to weaken, wanting to nurture the fear and anger and darkness that Luke fought back constantly.

"That doesn't make it untrue."

As Luke watched, Leia looked for a rejoinder, looked for some way to refute his words, but he saw acceptance dawn slowly on her face. She covered her mouth with her hand and refused to meet his eyes. More than anything he wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay, but he wasn't sure he believed it himself.

"I don't want to lose you." Leia's voice was very small.

"You can't lose me," Luke said, a little bitterly. "I'm your twin brother."

"Don't."

Suddenly he was exhausted. Aside from a drug-induced haze on board the _Falcon_ , he couldn't remember the last time he'd really slept. On Dagobah, probably. How long ago had that been? He let his knees give way and sank onto the bunk.

Leia sat next to him, and he didn't fight the instinct to put his arm around her. "What are we going to do?" She laid her head on his shoulder.

"I don't know." All he wanted to do right then was lie down and sleep for an age.

"We don't have to tell anyone. We could… ignore it."

Leia's words startled him. It was an option he hadn't even considered. "Is that what you want?"

She lifted her head and looked at him, determination showing in her eyes. "I won't lose you." She reached up and touched his cheek, and before he could react, pulled him down and kissed him.

It had been so long since they'd really been able to touch, since Hoth. A lifetime ago. Luke's body and heart responded immediately, his fingers curving along her jawline to bring her in closer. She kissed him like she was starving, reminding him of his own hunger.

 _This is wrong_.

Luke tried to ignore that little voice, but he kept hearing Vader's words over and over again. _You have a twin sister._

Finally the guilt was too much. He gently eased away from Leia, and ending that kiss—the one that should be their last—hurt so much it was almost physical, an ache carved deep into his bones.

"Leia, we can't."

"No one knows."

" _We_ know."

Leia stared at him for a moment as if willing him to change his mind, then her eyes dropped from his. "You're right. I'm sorry." She slipped away from him, putting as much distance between them as the small room would allow. "And you still need rest."

"Leia—"

"No. You need sleep and I need to check in with General Madine." She left their quarters without so much as a backwards glance.

Too exhausted and sad to do anything else, Luke lay down alone on the bunk, and was soon asleep.

When he woke, the pile of belongings in the corner was considerably smaller. Leia's things were gone.

#

The whispers started almost immediately. Leia should have known they would. The change between her and Luke was evident to everyone, and speculation as to why ran rampant. Some people gossiped that she and Han had fallen in love in their mad dash across the galaxy. Some thought that Luke's strange disappearance was the cause. The one that hurt the most was the rumor that Leia couldn't bear to be near him since his injuries. No one dared ask her, of course, but she caught a dozen quizzical looks her way each day.

She and Luke had agreed to tell no one what Vader had said. They still had to interact. And they still had to work together to rescue Han. Both of them felt responsible for his capture. Chewbacca and Lando sent them status updates regularly, and it wouldn't be long before Luke and Leia would head out for Tatooine to begin planning for the rescue in earnest.

It was going to be hell.

Talking to him _now_ was hell. He would barely look at her when he spoke, leaving her to study his face, noting the dark circles beneath his eyes. So he wasn't sleeping either. Leia's nightmares had started again. Every night, she was back on the Death Star, reliving the pain she'd experienced at the hands of Darth Vader. Her father.

She woke after each one, wishing for Luke beside her to hold her and soothe away her fears the way he always did. Of all the things Darth Vader had taken from her, the peace she'd found with Luke was the greatest loss. The one thing she was angriest about losing. It wasn't fair. Deep down, Leia didn't believe she and Luke had done anything wrong. But he did, and she would probably never convince him otherwise.

Luke found her on the bridge of the ship, where she was listening to the command staff plan the fleet's next move. He looked better, the best he had since Bespin, in fact. His eyes were bright with something she hadn't seen in a while; they were alive again. When he stepped close to her, she could feel the energy vibrating of him—it shot through her when he touched her elbow. He leaned in, too close, close enough to remind her of everything she'd lost, and for just a moment his words didn't register. She was too distracted by his nearness.

"What?" she said.

"They found him. Lando and Chewie. They know where Han is."

She glanced at the command staff, and followed him out into the corridor. "Are they sure?"

"Lando saw him." His lip curled. "He's still in the carbonite. A local crime lord's palace."

From the look on Luke's face, he knew more about Han's location than he was telling her, and it was burning him up with anger. Before she could ask him, he went on, "I think you should stay here."

"What, no! We agreed. I'm coming with you."

"Leia." He lowered his voice. "I know who has him. Jabba the Hutt is ruthless. He's been controlling a part of Tatooine for years. It's too dangerous."

Leia looked up at him as if he were a stranger in front of her. Maybe he was. The brother she never knew she had. "'It's too dangerous'? Where have you been for the past three years, Luke? _Now_ you're worried about danger?" She wanted to shake him. Since when did he treat her with kid gloves? They'd left that behind when the Alliance had left Yavin.

"It's different now." Luke refused to meet her eyes. He'd always been a terrible liar, but now, with the connection they had, there was little he could hide from her. She sensed his anger, yes, but something else, beneath it all. Fear. Fear of something greater than losing her.

She couldn't take the time to work it through with him now. Getting Han back was bigger than their problems, more than just rescuing a friend. Beyond that, Han knew too much about the Alliance, and as long as he was in unfriendly hands, they were all at risk. "I'm coming with you, end of discussion."

He opened his mouth to argue but she raised one finger. "I outrank you, _Commander_. I'm going."

Luke didn't argue, but he was plainly unhappy with the situation. "All right," he conceded.

"And don't even think about trying to leave without me. I'll commandeer a ship and come after you. When are we going?"

"Tonight. Can you be ready at 2000?" Some of the anger was draining from him, as if making a concrete plan gave it a focus.

"Yes."

"Meet me in hangar bay twenty-three."

Leia studied him for any sign that he was lying, that he would still try to leave without her. "I'll be there," she said. "You'd better be too."

Luke sighed. "I'll be there."

Leia planned to get there at 1900, just to be sure.

#

Tatooine was smaller than Luke remembered. Not the planet itself, but everything on it. After years away, the towns that had seemed bustling and enormous were tiny villages. And for the first time he wondered who he might have been if he hadn't been raised here. If he and Leia had been raised together, maybe, on Alderaan.

It took all of his focus sometimes, to keep thinking of her as his sister, not as his partner of three years. Especially now, sharing a small set of rooms in Mos Eisley. Back with the fleet, they'd been able to avoid each other, and as much as that had hurt, this was worse, a thousand times worse. To be with her every single day and not be able to touch her, and not just that, to know that even thinking about it was wrong…

Lando came by every few days with further intel about Jabba's palace. He'd gotten hired on as a guard. Chewie had to stay largely hidden with the _Falcon_. Both he and the ship were recognizable and connected to Han, and if word of his presence on Tatooine got to the wrong ears, their plan would be blown before they got started.

They crowded around their small table with Lando and Chewie, Luke acutely aware of Leia's nearness, her knee pressing against his beneath the table.

"Jabba's paranoid as hell," Lando was saying. "There are guards everywhere. Last month one of his cousins tried to have him assassinated so it's harder than ever to get in."

"What does that do to our plan?" Leia asked.

"Ordinarily I'd say we were screwed," Lando said, a glint in his eye. "But as paranoid as he is, the slimy bastard's ego is bigger. Send the 'droids as a gift with a big dose of flattery, and they're in."

Chewie growled, and Lando nodded at him. "Yeah, you're not wrong. He's so eager to get his hands on you he's not going to look too close at who brings you in."

Leia patted Chewie's furry arm. "Are you sure you'll be all right though?"

Chewie nodded, voicing his assent.

"I'm not sure about this," Luke said. He didn't look at Leia, because she was about to start glaring at him. "Maybe we should just let him be 'captured'. Or I can take him in."

"Don't be ridiculous, you can't be the bounty hunter _and_ the Jedi knight both. I'll be fine. No one will know who I am beneath the mask," Leia argued. "You're the one taking the biggest risk. With the bounty the Empire has on you, walking into a nest full of bounty hunters? Maybe you should stay here and let us get Han."

"I can't do that, you're going to need me."

"Maybe not. We might be able to get Han free without you."

From the corner of his eye, Luke saw Lando and Chewie exchange glances. They were about to clear out if he and Leia kept arguing.

"Just… wait for me," he pleaded. "Don't do anything until I get there."

"We'll see," Leia said, lifting her chin.

#

The droids were on their way to Jabba's palace the next day. Leia and Chewie would follow shortly after. That was the part of the plan still made the pit of Luke's stomach tighten and ache. Leia was sure she could bluff her way into Jabba's entourage with no difficulty, but Luke had a bad feeling about it. They'd already argued a second time today about him taking her place.

She thought he didn't trust her, when in truth, he didn't trust himself. His emotions were a minefield whenever she was around now; focus was nearly impossible. It wasn't just that he was afraid of losing her. He was afraid of losing himself. The darkness that threatened to swallow him on Bespin hadn't left—it had only retreated. Every day he felt it deep within, waiting.

So here they were, the night before, and Luke couldn't sleep. He paced the small confines of his room, going over each aspect of the plan in his head. Any tiny flaw could spell ruin, death—or worse—for all of them.

A quiet knock on his door startled him out of his reverie.

"I saw the light on," Leia said. "You can't sleep?" She brushed past him into his room, and she was so lovely it cut his heart. Her hair was braided down her back, the way she always wore it at night, and she was bundled into a heavy robe against the night chill of Tatooine.

"No, I never can before a mission, you know that." As soon as he said it, he wished he could take it back. Especially the last three words.

"I remember." A flash of a sad, sweet smile. "Me either." She came to him and put her arms around his waist, and he pulled her close, resting his cheek against her hair. They stood that way for a long time.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know you just want us all to be safe."

"I trust you with my life, you have to know that." Luke wanted to stay right here forever, breathing the scent of Leia's hair. But he couldn't.

Finally Leia said, "I miss you."

Luke squeezed his eyes shut. "I miss you too." He had to force the words past the lump in his throat. In the months since Bespin, his world had constricted to training, to the occasional mission for the Alliance, to planning Han's rescue. Nothing else. No real warmth. He got along well with his fellow pilots, but they weren't enough. They weren't Leia. The light had gone out in his life and he was left fumbling around in the dark.

"Luke, I don't—I don't want to die missing you." She pulled away and sought his eyes.

"You're not going to die, no one's going to die."

"I have a bad feeling about things." Leia's dark eyes caught the ambient light in the room, and Luke was transfixed by them.

"It won't—it'll be—" He trailed off, aware that they were drifting closer to one another, eyes still locked. Aware that he should move away. He didn't. He leaned closer, moving by millimeters. Their lips touched hesitantly, as hesitantly as the first time, standing in a public square on Naboo. He still had the holovid cube the old vendor had sold them, hadn't looked at it in ages.

He should move away, but instead his fingers curled around the back of her neck, sliding up beneath her loose braid. Leia's mouth was warm and sweet and soft beneath his, everything that had been missing from his life since Bespin. And he knew he should move away. But he didn't. He couldn't.

 _She's your sister._

But before she'd been his sister, she'd been the woman he loved, the woman he still loved. He'd missed her every moment of the time they'd been apart. Here, right here, felt right. Even if it wasn't.

She slid her hand beneath his shirt, caressing his waist before dragging up his back, and just that little touch had him shivering against her. Their kiss turned from warm to hot, open mouths and teasing tongues. His right hand fisted against her back, clutching her robe, while his left hand slipped from her neck to trail along her exposed collarbone.

His mind was a cacophony of conflicting messages, images of what he wanted to do next, the voice—getting quieter—telling him to stop, and through it all, the clear, pure stream of love he felt coming from Leia, washing away everything in its path until his mind was full of her and nothing else. They broke the kiss to gaze at each other, checking in. Her free hand raised to his cheek, and he turned instinctively to kiss her palm.

And was flooded with the sudden graphic memory of a lost night on Mimban, moonlight streaming into their room while he knelt between her thighs. The scent of her, the taste… why now? He caught her hand and turned his face into it and inhaled, then groaned helplessly. It was faint, but there.

Leia flushed scarlet. "I told you I couldn't sleep."

The image of her, lying on her narrow bed in the room beside his, burying her fingers inside herself in a desperate bid for release and rest—it was more than he could bear. He caught her hand in his and brought her fingers to his lips, drawing her index finger in. Her taste still lingered on her skin, beneath a hint of soap, and he closed his eyes to savor it.

"Look at me," she murmured, and he opened his eyes obediently, mouth still moving from one finger to another. With her other hand, she brushed back his hair. "I've tried to stop loving you. I can't do it."

Luke folded her fingers in his. "I can't either."

And she was right, as much as he didn't want to admit it. Any of them might die tomorrow. This could be their last chance.

He let her pull him back for another kiss, and this time they broke it only for her to pull his shirt off. The night chill prickled at his back, but Leia's body was warm against his. More so when she opened her robe and pulled him to her bare skin. Luke groaned against her mouth and gave in completely, catching the edges of the robe to pull her back toward his bed.

They fell onto it together, tangled in each other's clothes, struggling trying to free themselves without letting go of each other. Luke's heart beat out two conflicting messages as Leia stretched out beneath him: _right_ and _wrong_. It was a lopsided, uneven beat, with _wrong_ growing fainter and fainter like something passing out of existence.

He almost couldn't hear it at all anymore when he kissed his way down her belly and parted her pale, perfect thighs. All he knew was her heat under his mouth, the taste and scent and sound of her, and he lost himself. It wasn't until she pulled him up that he drifted back to reality. Her face was flushed and she was gasping for breath, her eyes glowing.

As she kissed him, she wrapped her legs around him and murmured against his mouth. "Please. I need you."

If there had ever been anything he needed more than her, he couldn't remember what it was. Her heart beat against his chest, the same heartbeat that had once been the soundtrack of his existence, another time when all they'd known was each other. He shifted, then arched, slowly easing into her.

After, they were both able to finally drift to sleep, still wrapped up in one another.

#

Luke woke with an empty place in his bed and a new shadow on his soul. The guilt that he'd pushed away the night before came flooding back. Tatooine was a planet of superstitious souls, and as much as Luke thought he'd grown past that, he couldn't help but think that somehow his and Leia's actions had doomed their mission. That they'd be punished for what they'd done.

The gloom followed him as he finished preparations. Leia was gone, taking Chewbacca in for the bounty Jabba had on him. That left Luke as the last piece of the puzzle. He needed all of his focus, and he couldn't manage to pull it around him. Every time he reached for calm instead he found shame and anger waiting there for him. Finally, standing at Jabba's palace door, and desperate, he settled on the anger, letting just a little of it in.

It was a mistake. The moment he laid eyes on Leia, saw what Jabba had done to her, the anger threatened to bubble over into a killing rage. In that moment he could have gladly slaughtered everyone in that throne room. He held on to his control just barely by his fingernails, but paid the price for it. A missed trap door, an unexpected fight for his life beneath the throne room—all the cost of his carelessness.

They survived the sail barge and the Sarlacc maybe just by luck. The anger got him through, maybe saved his life. Saved all their lives.

But as they sped away from Jabba's exploding sail barge, he realized that he couldn't put it away so easily. He wanted to lash out, at Han for getting captured in the first place, at Leia for not sticking to the plan. At the sandstorm that met them on the way to Mos Eisley. He followed the others onto the _Millennium Falcon_ , shaking sand out of his hair.

He'd given Leia his robe, but she was still in that humiliating outfit, and Han—for all that he'd claimed initial blindness—wouldn't stop _looking_ at her.

Finally Han tore his eyes away when Leia went to change. "Looks like I owe you one, kid," he said.

Luke didn't have a response that wasn't rude, so he just kept brushing off the sand, not caring that it was covering the _Falcon's_ deck.

Han, missing the cues, gave him a toothy grin. "So what'd I miss? You two didn't up and get married while I was out of it, did you? I mean, the way you're moving up in the world, _Jedi Knight_ , that sounds like the next step."

"If I said yes, would you stop ogling her?" Luke snapped.

"Hey." Han raised his hands. "I'm sorry if I overstepped, kid. You know I would never—"

Luke waved a hand to cut him off, and sighed. "No, I'm sorry. It doesn't matter." Han needed rest, and Luke needed somewhere quiet to try and regain control of his emotions.

#

Leia couldn't get clean. Aside from the sand, which was everywhere—and that damned torture device of an outfit she'd been strapped into didn't help—she felt as if she had a thin layer of slime covering her that no amount of water or sonics could get rid of. The humiliation of being an object on display just wouldn't wash off. She had new nightmare fodder, of being trapped against the grit-flecked, slimy skin of the Hutt, and the sick, rotting stench of his breath against her face. It could have gotten worse—no doubt would have gotten worse—if they hadn't escaped.

When Luke strode into the throne room, Leia could see there was something different about him. His eyes were colder than she'd ever seen them, and when they flicked to where she was chained, a chill ran through her. There was a killer in front of her, a killer she didn't know.

Maybe that was why something had snapped in her as well.

It turned out that shooting someone in the heat of battle was very very different from feeling their life drain away beneath your hands. Where the strength came from, she might never know, but it was there, and she used it. But now she couldn't get clean. _Maybe I am my father's daughter after all_.

She shook off that thought and went to go find Luke.

Instead she found Han, sprawled in the lounge and going over a datapad.

"You should be resting," she said.

"I am resting. See, I'm lying down." His eyesight was still giving him trouble, judging by the way he kept tilting the datapad and bringing it closer.

Leia shook her head and started to continue on her way.

"Leia." Something in Han's voice stopped her. "What's going on with Luke?"

There were so many ways to answer that question, and Leia wasn't sure which answer to pick. "A lot happened while you were—"

"Spending time as a wall decoration?"

"Out of commission." Leia couldn't help smiling a little. "Luke has had a lot going on." She could tell him the truth—she doubted he'd be shocked—but telling someone else, even Han, would make it feel more real.

"Is he all right?" Han sat up, as if he planned to go charging at whatever was bothering Luke. And he probably would, too. She wished it were something that easily defeated.

"I'm not sure." That was as much truth as she could give him.

"Well, let me know, will ya?" He muttered something about things falling apart without him to keep them together.

Leia rapped on Luke's door, and he let her in. Her relief startled her—the belated realization that she wasn't one hundred percent sure that he would open the door.

"How's your hand?" Leia asked. Real or not, he'd clearly felt pain from the blaster shot.

"It's all right. It doesn't hurt anymore." He flexed the hand, now within a black glove. "This will do until we can get to a med droid."

Leia was across the room and had her arms around him before he could react. He tensed, then slumped, putting his arms around her, pulling her head to his shoulder.

"You were right, I'm sorry," Leia said. "I should have waited for you."

"No, I think you were right. We never would have gotten out of there without Han's help."

The chill Leia had sensed in Jabba's palace was fainter, but still there. "Luke, what's wrong?"

"What isn't?" The laugh he gave sounded nothing like himself. "I can't help but think that our father would have been proud of me today."

"Luke, no."

"I know now why he told me the truth." He pulled back so he could look her in the eyes. They were the same icy blue she'd seen on Tatooine.

"He wanted to hurt us."

Luke shook his head. "He wants us to join him."

"No." Leia's felt the rage rising in her, the force of it catching her off-guard. After the Death Star, she didn't think she could hate Darth Vader anymore than she did then. She'd been wrong. "He's… he must be delusional if thinks that we would."

But she saw the look in Luke's eyes. Across the new mental bond they shared, she saw their father's outstretched hand, the desperation Luke had felt, feeling like that hand was the only way out, and she saw clearly just how close he'd come.

"You—you _thought_ about it." Leia stared at him with wide eyes.

"I was hurt, I wasn't thinking—"

"You would have betrayed us. Betrayed _me_."

"No! Not ever." He caught her by the shoulders. "Leia, I love you. I love you so much that I let go instead."

He hadn't told her how he'd wound up in the ventilation shaft. Now she saw it clearly, the horror of the fall, the certainty that he would die alone there. That he'd done it to escape the shred of hope their father had offered. Leia could only stare at him, unable to find words.

"And today—I'm slipping, Leia." He gave another bitter laugh. "There wasn't a shaft for me to throw myself down, and if I had, how would you and the others survived?"

"It's because of me, isn't it. Because of us."

"I don't know. Maybe. Yes."

It was selfish of her, maybe, but Leia laid her head on his shoulder again. He didn't push her away.

"I think I should go away for a while," he said after a long pause. "Back to Dagobah. I promised that I would."

A knot of panic rose in Leia's throat. He would come back a stranger. It was bad enough the first time. "You don't have to leave because of me. I'll—I'll make sure we're assigned to different ships, different bases, if it comes to that. We need you here."

"I promised," he repeated.

She was going to lose him again, this time for good.

#

As soon as they were back with the fleet, Luke started making preparations to leave again. He had a better grip on himself now—the darkness wasn't constantly lurking around the edges of his thoughts—but he didn't trust himself anymore.

 _Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. Consume you it will, as it did Obi-Wan's apprentice._

"Obi-Wan's apprentice." His father.

At the time, Luke thought Yoda's words meant that one slip meant you could never come back. He saw things differently now. He'd slipped, there was no doubt of that, but he'd managed to come back—only to find that the fear of slipping again never went away. He understood now what Yoda meant when he said it would consume him.

But there had to be a way to get past it. There had to be. He refused to give up that easily.

Leia was true to her word, and moved to a different ship in the fleet entirely, helping coordinate their search for a new base. Her absence was a hollow space in the center of him, but the emptiness was easier to ignore than the ache of her presence.

He spoke to Han almost daily, usually to turn down Han's requests to help with the Falcon. They were just thinly-veiled attempts to get Luke to talk anyway, and he was done talking.

At least, he thought he was.

Han cornered him in the hangar as he was doing one last check of his X-wing before leaving for Dagobah.

"What the hell, kid? You're a Jedi now, and all of a sudden I'm not good enough to talk to?" Han was loud, too loud. Heads were starting to turn in their direction. There was enough gossip about him right now as it was.

"Shh." Luke dropped his spanner into the toolbox and ducked down out of the X-wing's innards. "I'm right here, you don't have to yell."

"Well I wasn't sure if you could hear me anymore, since you've been ignoring me for a week," Han retorted, but quieter.

"I wasn't ignoring you. There's been a lot keeping me busy…"

"Yeah, I gathered." Han looked up at the ship, taking in the preparations for a trip. "Leia told me you were taking off again."

Luke fought a pang of jealousy at the thought of the two of them talking. "Yeah. Soon. I'll be back though."

Casually, too casually, Han asked, "What does Leia think about you leaving?"

"I don't know. I haven't talked to her since we got back." That wasn't exactly the truth. Luke knew what she thought, or what she had thought a week ago.

"Luke, what the hell is going on?"

"Nothing we just—things changed while you were gone." Luke focused on closing up the X-wing's hull.

"Nuh-uh. Not this. You two are crazy about each other. That didn't change."

Luke tried to give him a look that would convince him to drop it, but Han had sunk his teeth into the topic and wasn't about to let it go.

"So what gives?"

Han followed him as Luke put his tools away and wiped off his hands. He could probably yell at Han loud enough and convince him to go away, but suddenly he was tired. Tired of keeping secrets, tired of not talking about everything that had happened.

"You still have some of that jet fuel you try and pass off as brandy?" Luke said.

"Hey, that stuff is worth more than the _Falcon_."

Luke snorted, already feeling his spirits rising a little. "I could dive into this ship's trash compactor and pull out something worth more than the _Falcon_."

"Yeah? I'm gonna remind you of that next time I have to show up in her and save your sorry ass."

Han continued griping all the way to the _Falcon_ , and it was enough to make Luke smile as he walked up the gangplank.

The brandy was as terrible as he remembered, burning all the way down his throat, but it blossomed warm in his belly and made it easier to talk. Settled in the _Falcon's_ cockpit with their feet up, Luke managed to tell Han the entire story: Vader, the truth about him and Leia, losing his hand. All of it. He even—albeit haltingly and with flaming cheeks—confessed how he and Leia had faltered the night before the rescue.

By the time he was done, some of the anger had drained away from him, but the shame was as strong as ever.

Han let out a low whistle. "That's a hell of a burden you've been carrying, Luke."

"No one else knows."

"Not their business. And I'll tell you something, kid," Han pointed at him with the bottle before pouring them both another drink, "I think the two of you are throwing away something you oughta be hanging on to."

Luke shook his head, not understanding.

"If Vader had never told you this story—and I ain't sayin' I completely believe him, either—would you still be together?"

"I love her," Luke said, miserably. "I've tried to stop. I can't do it."

"Then don't. Screw Vader, screw the Empire. There's not enough happiness in this life for you two to go chucking it away with both hands." Han tilted back in the pilot's seat, tucking one hand behind his head.

"Han, she's my _sister_." Luke was scandalized, but also surprised—and maybe a little relieved—that Han hadn't recoiled from him in disgust.

"Says some guy who isn't exactly what you'd call the most trustworthy man in the galaxy." Han drank, then put down his empty glass. "Maybe he just said that to mess with you."

"That's what Leia said."

"Well, there you go." He fixed Luke with a stern look. "Think about it. Why would you risk everything on the word of a man like that?"

Luke wouldn't be able to explain to Han the sense of _truth_ he had, how he'd known that Vader's words, however awful, were honest, so he nodded.

"Talk to Leia. If you don't do it yourself, I'll lock the two of you in an airlock and make you talk."

It was possible that Han wasn't kidding.

"And let's talk about this bullshit about you leaving, while we're at it…"

#

Luke didn't talk to Leia that night. There might have been a few more drinks with Han, and eventually with the rest of Rogue Squadron, who seemed delighted to have their old commander back for a visit.

By the time he got back to his quarters, Luke expected to fall into a dreamless sleep.

He was wrong.

In his dream, he was back on Dagobah, the cold mist seeping into his clothes. It was so vivid, for a moment he wasn't sure he was still asleep. Yoda's hut was visible through the trees, lights shining from the windows.

Before he could head in that direction, a familiar voice stopped him. "Yoda isn't there, Luke." Ben Kenobi crossed the swamp, his body outlined in the blue light of the Force. "You're too late. He's gone." He smiled his faintly enigmatic smile. "But I imagine you'll see him again someday."

"Ben?" It was too much to process all at once. Yoda, gone? And so many questions going through this mind, along with the anger and shame and regret piling up. Luke couldn't untangle it long enough to figure out where to start. "But my training…"

"You already know everything you need to know." Ben settled on a log, and Luke joined him, still trying to pull his thoughts together.

"You knew," Luke said, unable to keep the accusation out of his voice. "You knew, you saw what was happening with Leia, and you still didn't tell me. You didn't tell us."

Ben didn't meet his eyes at first. "I thought you weren't ready to hear the truth about your father." He sighed. "But I think now that I wasn't ready to tell you."

"But you had to know—"

Ben raised a hand to stop Luke. "I saw a different path for your sister. I thought it was an infatuation that would fade in time. I, of all people, should have known better."

What did he mean by that? Luke shook his head. "I don't know what to do."

"Luke, you must face Vader again. That is your destiny."

"I can't kill him. I can't kill my own father." Force help him, even if he was tempted, even if it seemed like it would resolve everything, make everything go away, Luke couldn't take that step.

"Then the Emperor has already won."

"I don't believe that. I can't believe that the only way the rebellion can win is through the death of one man." Luke might still be a novice at tactics, but that made no sense.

"If you do not kill him, you will join him. And if you join him on the Dark Side, the galaxy is lost." Ben spoke with absolute certainty. "You know the temptation now."

"I am resisting though. I can do this, I know I can." Luke mustered all the confidence he could, hoping to make this words true through brute force alone. "I'm staying away from Leia, I've refocused on my training. Vader is not going to win."

Ben was silent for a moment, and Luke could practically feel him considering something. "Love is… powerful, Luke. Denied or hidden, it festers. Rots. That's what destroyed your father. And your mother."

"What happened to them?"

"The Jedi once believed that all emotional attachments were a path to the dark side, that strong emotion itself was a danger. And so, when your parents fell in love, they kept it hidden. They lied. And when your father began to fear losing her, he had nowhere to turn within the Jedi. So he turned to the Sith."

Luke realized he was leaning forward; this was more than he'd ever heard about his parents before. "He turned to evil for her sake." It wasn't difficult to imagine—hadn't he almost done the same?

"Yes." Ben paused again, almost long enough that Luke thought he was finished speaking. Then he added. "We were wrong, Luke. The Jedi were wrong. You've shown me proof of that."

"Me?"

"You've never hidden your emotions, and yet—most of the time—they don't control you. Perhaps because you don't try to control them." He shook his head. "What Master Yoda feared was your greatest weakness, may yet prove to be your greatest strength."

Luke sat back, trying to take it in. He'd tried and failed to be the Jedi Yoda wanted him to be, and now, it seemed, that was a good thing.

"When have you come the closest to succumbing, Luke? Think before you answer."

Even on Bespin, he'd chosen the way out without a second thought. But since learning the truth, he'd had to constantly struggle. To fight against his feelings. To try and—

Luke's eyes went wide.

Ben nodded. "Since you started fighting what you feel for Leia."

"But what do I do?" The harder he fought, the greater the pull toward the darkness, but if he didn't fight at all…

"Your feelings are your strength, Luke. Only you can decide how best to use them."

With that, before Luke could protest, the dream started to fade.

Luke woke confused, but feeling oddly at peace. At peace, but sad. It had been a true dream, of that he was sure, which meant that Yoda was gone. There was no need for him to return to Dagobah now. He had been a disappointment to the Jedi Master, and he couldn't help but feel that his failure to return was one final disappointment he could never undo.

Without the excuse of going to Dagobah, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He was supposed to be leaving later that day. Maybe there was a mission somewhere he could go on, some tangible good he could do.

After breakfast, he wound up going to the hangar. Leia was there, standing beside his X-wing, her arms folded across her chest. She was waiting for him.

He hadn't really seen her at all since their return from Tatooine, and his heart started to race at the sight of her. No matter what happened, there would never be another woman as beautiful to him.

When he reached the ship, she spoke. "Don't say anything yet, just listen to me. I didn't want you to leave before I talked to you. You don't have to go." She glanced around and lowered her voice. "Please don't leave because of me."

"I'm not."

"Can we go somewhere to talk? I have something I need to say to you, and if I don't say it now, I won't." Leia looked as uncertain as he'd ever seen her.

Again Luke felt the urge to pull her into his arms and just hold her until this mess went away, and he pushed it aside—then remembered what Ben had said to him. _Your feelings are your strength._ How fighting them was moving him closer and closer to the dark.

Was it really as straightforward as that? Was it possible that maybe, _maybe_ , loving Leia wasn't the wrong thing to do? Was that what Ben had meant?

He nodded, and Leia looked surprised, as if she'd expected him to run. They caught a shuttle back to the ship she was staying on, and started the long walk back to her quarters, initially in silence. Luke was conscious of every pair of eyes that tracked them, and knew the gossip mill would start running wild again.

"We've almost found a new base," Leia said. "Hopefully we'll be able to move there soon."

"It's funny, given how badly I wanted to get off-planet as a kid, that I'd wind up actually missing living planetside." They were just making conversation, while Luke's mind spun, trying to figure out what he actually wanted to say to her.

"Ships aren't home, no matter what Han says."

They sounded almost normal. Whatever happened between them, maybe there was hope for normal again.

"I talked to him last night," Luke said.

"I know. He told me." They'd reached Leia's door. She keyed it open and let them both inside. "He said that if I was going to talk to you, I'd better do it this morning, that he hadn't been able to talk you out of leaving." She turned to face him.

"He tried." Luke chuckled. "And then he worked on getting me drunk. I think he thought if I was hungover enough I wouldn't go anywhere." He sat where Leia gestured, sinking into a long bench seat that took up most of one wall.

Leia didn't sit, but started to pace the room. "Why are we doing this to ourselves?"

"Our father—"

Leia whirled. "He is not my father! That's just it." She came and sat beside him him, taking his hands in hers. "My father was Bail Organa. My father is the one who told me stories at bedtime, who taught me politics, who hugged me when I was frightened—not the man who tortured me for hours and then destroyed my home."

Luke had never seen her eyes burn so intently, as if she could convince him of the truth of her words with just a look.

She went on, "Your father was Owen Lars. He taught you moisture farming, how to repair ships, how to be a good man. Don't you see? That monster does not get to define who you are, or who I am." Leia drew his eyes to hers and held them. "He doesn't get to define who we are to each other. Luke, you were my family before he said we were, and that's the family I want. Not the one he thinks he created."

"Leia, I—"

"If you don't agree, say so and that will be the end of it. I'll never breathe another word—but I will never ever accept that man as my father. And if you have to go to Dagobah, I'll understand."

" _Leia_."

She paused.

"I'm not going to Dagobah."

"But, your training?"

"I'm finished. I dreamed about Ben last night. But it was real—I mean, it was the Force. He told me I had all I needed."

Leia took a moment to digest that, then asked, "Did you give him hell for lying to you?"

Luke smiled, looking down at their joined hands. "Maybe a little."

"Does—did he know? About us?" Leia's brow creased. He could feel her unspoken questions, her concern for him.

"I think he knew before we did, but didn't think anything would come of it." Oh how wrong he'd been. The Force wasn't without a sense of humor; the hopes and dreams of two old Jedi Masters had been irrevocably altered by two teenagers dancing together, and then running off to try and save the galaxy. Even more ironic to know that it wasn't even the first time that a young couple had upended the Jedi Order.

"But he told me something," Luke went on, "about our mother and fa—and Anakin Skywalker. He fell to the Dark Side because of his love for her."

Leia listened, her fingers tightening around his.

"Not because he loved her, but because they had to hide it. Because they tried to deny it." He lifted his eyes to hers again. "Leia—I don't think you're wrong."

For the first time since Bespin, he saw something brighten in her dark eyes, something like hope. He wanted to share it, but he had to make sure she understood, too.

"I think… it doesn't matter if we're right or wrong to love each other," Luke said. "We _do_ love each other. And if I've learned anything lately, it's that trying to fight that only makes me weaker. I'm stronger with you, right or wrong."

"We're stronger together," she said softly.

"Always have been."

Luke didn't know which of them moved first, only that Leia's hands cupped his face and he clung to her as they kissed. Three years of memories seemed to flow between them in that kiss, stretching back to the moment they'd first laid eyes on each other, unaware of what was to come but knowing that, somehow, something important had just happened.

For the first time, knowing that their history stretched back even further didn't hurt. That word, _sister_ , didn't hurt. If anything, it proved to him now that they had always belonged together, that one way or another they would have found each other. He pulled her into his lap and gave in to the hungry way she kissed him.

The heat between them flared and Leia straddled him on the bench, kneeling over him. She laughed at him when he reached for her hair, but he needed to feel it tumbling over his hands, over his body. She sat patiently, stealing kisses while helping him take it down and unbraid it until it fell in heavy waves around her shoulders.

"Happy now?" she teased. He nodded, and her mouth was on his, licking and biting until he felt weak. It was new and familiar at the same time, as he ran his hands up her body, aching over the loss that might have been. Leia caught one of his hands in hers and moved it to the zipper of her jumpsuit, her mouth never leaving his except to breathe.

Luke was the one who broke the kiss, if only so he could watch as inch by inch of her skin was revealed as he pulled down the zipper. Leia was too impatient to let him take his time, and soon had pushed the top half down, baring herself to the waist. With his arms wrapped tight around her waist, he pulled her in and lowered his mouth to her breasts, moaning softly at the taste and softness of her skin beneath his tongue, hearing her moan in return.

They'd almost lost so much. His fingers splayed over her back, keeping her tight against his mouth. It wasn't far to her bed, so he slipped one hand beneath her and pushed to his feet. Leia gasped and then laughed, her arms and legs tightening around him, loosening only when he laid her down on her narrow bed.

"I love you," she murmured, watching him as he peeled the rest of her clothing away. They weren't words she said easily, or often. When she did say them, they went straight to the core of him. He bent over her, hovering inches above her face.

"I love you too." The words weren't enough to describe what he felt for her, they never were. Fortunately, words weren't all he had.

Leia watched him with a smile as he rapidly undressed, then opened her arms to him. For a moment he just looked at her, awestruck at the sheer beauty of her, pale skin against pale sheets, her dark hair spilling everywhere. She was his, really his.

She was also laughing at him again. "Come here," she murmured.

He settled against her side, the urgency dulled for a moment as they both ran their fingertips over each other's skin, kissing lazily as the heat slowly rebuilt. Their touches grew bolder, and the years they'd spent learning each other's bodies meant that each of them knew exactly where and how to touch. Luke saw stars when Leia's hand wrapped around his aching erection and he gasped her name. She was ready for him; the fingers he'd slid between her thighs were already damp when he parted her lips. She rose up on her hands and knees over him, arching against his hand. Inside she was hot and wet, but she thrust against his fingers only a few times before drawing away, even as he reached to draw her back.

But Leia had other ideas. She crawled over him, wrapping her hand around him again so she could settle against his hips slowly, taking him in with agonizing slowness. Her head was down, so he couldn't see her face at first, the ends of her hair teasing over his bare skin as she moved. Luke reached up and pushed the heavy curtain of hair aside to find her eyes tightly closed, her head tilting back as she sank down over him. Her lips parted in bliss, bliss he shared as it flowed from her to him, from his body to hers.

She took him as deep as she could, and only then did she open her eyes and smile at him. Leia took his hands and moved them to her hips, where she covered them as she started to rock against him.

She stole his breath. The link that had opened between them when he cried out to her in desperation, in pain, blazed open now with love, with shared sensation. Luke didn't know where he ended and Leia began, and he suspected it didn't matter.

They lingered, hanging suspended together in a time and a space that shut out the outside world completely. Orgasm was almost as afterthought, sweet shocks that signaled a return to the real world. Leia sprawled against his chest and all he could do was tighten his arms to keep her close, feeling their twinned heartbeats slowly returning to normal.

He might have drifted to sleep, until Leia spoke. "Where do we go from here?"

"Anywhere. Wherever we want. Well, wherever the Alliance needs us," Luke amended.

"What about him?" Him, the man who'd sired them both—no, not their father, Luke knew that now.

Luke shook his head and pressed a kiss to Leia's forehead. He'd have to face Vader again, and probably soon, but now he knew he had the strength he needed to get through it. "He didn't beat us the last time—not really. He won't this time either."

Whatever came, he had the strength of Leia's heart with him. Between the two of them, they could rewrite whatever destiny other people tried to choose for them.


End file.
